I, Ravenclaw
by Lady Of Proserpine
Summary: The tale leading up to the historical founding of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as narrated by the fair Rowena Ravenclaw. Fighting among the 4 Great Families yields nothing but destruction. An original take. More LOTR and Gormenghastesque
1. My brother's wife

Chapter 1

My Brother's Wife

I did not like her at first, this fair-haired, smooth-skinned sister of mine. The day she came to live with us, bringing her husband and her entire household in tow, I was thirteen. I remember Grata trying to pull a comb through my unruly, dark red hair. I whined and writhed under the tug of its fearsome teeth, eventually snatching it away from my maid to do it myself. I was not a child anymore, I reasoned. I began tearing away at my tangles as Grata's slits of eyes narrowed.

"You're not to get feisty with me, Mistress." I turned my back to her and continued to rip strands of hair into submission. I stared at the window and saw in the distance a shadow of a great caravan emerging from the mountains that shut out our Valley. The mass moved slowly like a giant, fearsome beast and Grata snatched the comb back out of my hand. I let her, entranced by looming crowd.

"Grata," I asked. "Who is that coming down out from the hills?"

"Eh?"

"I am asking who enters the valley of my father's house." I was impatient with my maid's lack of hearing.

Grata's wrinkled, narrow face peered out the window. She smacked her thin lips. "Hasn't your father told you?"

"No."

"Well," She said haughtily. "If he didn't want to tell you I don't suppose I should."

"Well," I said in the same tone "Father has been in London with the king since last week, and won't be back for another fortnight. And mother is in no condition to answer questions." Again.

"Your mother--" Grata began. I held up my hand to silence her.

"Yes, yes. The Lady Ravenclaw is stronger than I will ever know," I recited impatiently. "She survived the births of myself and my brother although she wasn't strong enough to handle us both. And she gave birth to me, the skinny, freakish girl who should have been the boy, with the purple eyes, pale skin and a temper. Yes, Grata, I know."

There was a silence.

"It's your sister-in-law," Grata conceded. "The Lady Hufflepuff."

"My brother's wife?"

"The wars in the north have driven the here."

"Why is _he_ there too?" I didn't like my brother. He was a tall, pasty man whose left hand had a habit of clenching and unclenching itself constantly, and he hopped on his toes and bounced in his chair during supper.

Grata wove my hair into a plait and jammed pins into it. Its dark weight sat upon the back of my neck.

"Is my mother well enough to take visitors?"

"If she is, she will tell me."

I stood up and stepped into my brown gown. "We won't have another fiasco, will we?" Last winter a supper with one Duke or Earl or another had brought crisis. My mother had had to been dragged out of the room screaming and cursing the name of an imaginary sprite that would not cease following her. "What time can we expect her?"

"Nightfall, Mistress."

I blew air out through my cheeks. "So I supposed that means feasting tonight?"

"Yes, Mistress."

I sat on my stool for a second, and I could hear Grata's raspy breathing behind me.

"Madam before your mother took ill again, she asked me to make certain that you continue your needlepoint…"

"Oh bother needlepoint," I said impatiently.

"Now, Mistress --"

"Go away," I snapped, snatching up my embroidery. I had been working on pillows for my father when he returned from the hunt. It seemed he was never home. Grata grumbled something about evil, ill-mannered children and made as much noise as possible storming from the room.

I picked up an almond from the silver tray near my window sill and threw it down into the fourth-level garden. I watched it become a speck as it fell to the ground and I saw a small bird fly toward it, and hop away. The whole family slept in the north tower, but that didn't mean I liked it. It was the highest of the towers that gave my family the reigning view of our great estate in the valley that stretched out as far as I could see.

There were the four wings, each with its own towel in the north, south, east and west of the great city that my father ruled over. We were in the North, the South tower was for dignitaries and wealthy townspeople, the East was for visiting relatives and was usually empty. I looked out my window onto the East Wing and watched the distant buzz of activity. Something was being lifted on a pulley into the high tower window while a number of townspeople had gathered to watch. I could see specks that were workers running through one of the gardens with an armful of linens.

Each of the wings had levels of gardens. There was the lower level, or the public gardens that were fairly well taken care of and in the summer the lovers and children of the peasants and townspeople would come and sit in the sunshine in their spare moments. All of the wings had different gardens. The North's gardens were full of flowers, the East's was full of fruit and the West's was full of herbs that a clever housewife could snip and put in her bag when a guard wasn't watching. I did not know about the fourth tower… I am not sure that it had a garden at all. My eyes flicked to the West wing and I suppressed a shudder.

I had never been to the West Wing, it was for criminals and murderers, where they were tortured and left to starve and die. Executions were held on the mid-level garden and throngs gathered below and onto the level to watch. The roof was black and the stone was a dull gray that gave you the illusion that it was always in shadow. Children were told stories of the fearful West Wing, including myself. I heard that it was haunted and the poor would hover around the entrance to catch the many rats to eat. I had never seen a jail keeper but I had heard that they were tall and pale with hairy chests and backs, burly with the muscle of torturing. I heard they said nothing for they had done so many horrible things that they could not speak, only scream.

I rested my elbows on the cold windowsill and watched the fast-approaching procession coming from the north. A small group of riders were moving hard and fast down the pass, although I could make out nothing more that they were swift. They looked dark and tiny from so far away, but I knew they would be here soon enough. I looked down onto the thousands upon thousands of rooftops and into the minute streets and alleys filled with people of all shapes and sizes and I sighed.

I loved Ravensglen, in all her stately glory. She was my home, my life and my heritage. I loved her from her knotted, winding forests and the craggy cliffs that led to her sea. I felt a pang of frustrated anger at the thought of this beautiful place going to my brother, the stuttering, blundering man who cared not for it. I did not know why I could not rule. I was the more loved and clever of the two of us, although I knew my brother was Father's favorite. But could I not simply marry and stay here? My brother did everything he could to get away, even fighting wars against the Saxons in the south. But here there was nothing but peace. No one would bother us in this fertile swampland I called my home.

And I saw that procession coming from the mountains and I knew my brother was not the one riding fast toward it.

Dressed in a deep green gown that Grata said brought out my hair and kept attention away form my curious, bruise colored eyes, I sat in the entrance hall, awaiting these guests. My dress was tight around the bosom and I thought with a thrill that I was becoming a woman. My new shoes pinched my toes but I cared not. I was seated to the left of Pincer, my father's steward. When my father was away, he ruled.

I did not like Pincer at all, and he knew so. He was a gaunt, sickly looking man with limp, mousey-brown hair and a gapped smile that did not reach to his eyes. When father was away he acted as though Ravensglen had been his all along, and he took the liberties of a king. He ate in my father's place at the table and ate his food, drank his wine and pinched the backsides of my father's maids and his two concubines, Helen and Genevieve. They disliked him as much as I did. The two of them were agreeable enough, but their love of gossip could not keep me interested for long. Certainly I wished to hear the scandal but the fact that Martia Hawdling passed her robes onto her daughter, trying to pass them off as new, was not something I cared about.

And so I sat, my tailbone becoming numb as the cheap straw pillow that I was given to sit upon, because I was a girl and not important enough to wear a down pillow, my formal silver circlet binding my hair. A flee bite was itching like mad on my right wrist and I scratched it furiously until I felt it become damp with blood. I then suckled the wound, my eyes still on the door. Pincer sat on my right in the largest most regal looking chair that the servants could find, because my father had taken his throne with him to the Highlands to crush a rebellion in the mountains. And so Pincer sat in a chair of old, noble oak, grumbling that my father should not have taken the silver with him. He gnawed noisily at the cuticle of his thumb and glared at me through pale blue eyes whose whites were tinged yellow.

I sat on my stool with my hands folded in my lab, still scratching at my wrist still, and the head members of the household, including Grata and the head of maids and the cook. A few house elves knelt at my feet and blinked their great big eyes at the door, twittering among themselves. My tutor, Abraham, was sitting a respectful distance behind me, no doubt with a book of some sort concealed in his robes.

And so we waited

My hair was damp against the back of my neck by the time I heard hooves on the cobblestones outside. Three house elves rushed to the door handle and wrenched it open in one simultaneous movement. For a moment the dark hall was dazzled by sudden sunlight and three shadowy figures emerged from the golden haze. I squinted and the doors shut again. For a second, there was nothing but darkness, until my eyes became adjusted. The three figures were a woman, and two men. The woman remained kneeling as the two gentlemen stood up and peered at Pincer whose mouth had curled into a snarling smile.

"Welcome," he said, gesturing around him. "To Ravensglen."

The men bowed again. Their dress was foreign, with tighter fabrics then I was accustomed to, and their legs were covered only to the knee. After that their calves were hidden beneath tight cloth of some kind. Their shoes were thick and beaten, and they wore about their necks they wore great chains of gold. The man on the right had a dark blonde hair, cut in a style that reminded me of an overturned bowl and his face was consumed in dark stubble. The man on the left of the kneeling woman had hair over his ears that were a pale red color and cloudy grey eyes peeked out beneath sloping brows. I bit back a snarl at my older brother and I knew that the hand behind his back was clenching and unclenching. His lips were thick and blubbery.

"Good eve to you, Steward Pincer." His voice had picked up no life from two years in another country. It was still droll and monotonous. Pincer licked his lips and inclined his head with such a deft jerk that I knew he had been practicing. I noticed with annoyance that the woman was still bowed. "And good eve to you, Lady Rowena. I declare you are growing into a woman." I glared at him.

"As I should be, Robert." I could see the woman's knee beginning to shake from strain. "Please, my brother, your lady may rise from the floor if she is still capable of doing so." There was a scuffling noise. The man with the unattractive haircut hurried to help the lady up. I remember the first time I looked upon her as she rose to her in a stately red gown high cut about the neck with a traveling cloak trimmed with fox fur. Her cheeks, hands and indeed any other revealed part of her body were a fine, lily white with a faint hint of blush in her cheeks. Here eyes were blue, accentuated by eyebrows a shade darker than her hair, sculpted into a beautiful curve and her eyelashes were long. Her lips were cherries, and her hair was a beautiful blonde color and fell in soft curls through its pins. She smiled with straight, white teeth and her nails were faultless and clean.

She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

She bowed to Pincer and inclined her head at me and I swallowed air all in a rush. I had heard tales of the kindness and charm of the lady Hufflepuff in my brother's occasional messages but had no idea that the rumors of her beauty were so accurate.

"A good eve to thee, Pincer and Lady Sister Rowena. I bring salutations and gifts from my father, the King Hufflepuff, ruler of the Valley Country."

"I thought there were many rulers of the Valley Country," I heard someone whisper. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from giggling.

The doors groaned open and a pair of servants came in bearing two chests. One was significantly smaller than the other. The Lady Hufflepuff pointed to the larger chest.

"For his Lordship; it is filled with herbs and spices from across the seas for his kitchens and dragon's bones from the east." I bit my tongue. My tutor Abraham had told me that dragon's teeth were some of the most magical things in our world. I myself knew a few basic spells and was not yet of the age of formal learning, but I shivered with anticipation of the magical properties of those bones. I could see Pincer too, gazing at the box that contained bones that were rarer than rubies and more valuable than diamonds. I knew by that look he was calculating whether he could walk away with one of those fine bones under his arms.

The Lady Hufflepuff gestured to the smaller chest, a miniature version of the one for her father. "And this is for the lady Rowena." I felt my eyebrows raise in surprise as the chest was brought before me. The servant's fingernails were dirty as he opened the clasp for me and I felt my eyebrows raise even higher. There was a wide, thick book, a small pursh and another box. I set the box and purse on my lap and lifted the books out with trembling hands.

"My God," I heard Abraham breathe as I read the title. 'The Contained Works of Merlin the Bard'. I had heard of this book. Abraham had told me that the secrets of the earth were contained in this, the book written in Merlin's own hand, the one wizard who had ever managed the unthinkable three times. I could hear Abraham's voice in my head, reciting it to me.

"He stopped time for three days, raised the dead to life and preformed the Divine art." The Divine art was making something from nothing. And I held the keys of his words in my hands. The Lady Hufflepuff was sitting there, drinking in my astonishment.

"It is a beautiful book… thank you." I choked finally. She nodded. With great regret I gave the book to a house elf to put in my vault, and I opened the box. Within was an amulet on a long, silver chain. It was a strange shade of green, although it could easily have been blue, and within it the light reflected many different colors. I looked up at the Lady Hufflepuff, bewildered. "What is it?"

"It is an opal," She said kindly and quietly. I was not sure whether anyone else could hear. "She is the queen of gems. It contains water, correlating with human emotions. It clarifies by amplifying and mirroring feelings, buried emotions, desires like love and passion. It will help your sight and imagination, dreams, and when you learn healing it will assist you. It will absorb and store emotions and thoughts that you wish to hide." I stared at her blankly for a moment.

"There were many times," she continued in a soft voice. "When I was your age and wished to hide myself. She made a little gesture with her eyes that took in the whole room. "You need not be afraid of them." I stared at her blankly and felt a blank anger I the back of my mind. Did she think me a child?

I put the opal obediently around my neck, intending to take if off immediately when I retired to my chamber. The little purse contained a small fortune for me to spend as I liked. I was appreciative enough, but found something in Hufflepuff's gentle, friendly nature and I wasn't sure what it was. Behind the smiles and gracious thanks there was something tickling at the back of my brain that made me feel uncomfortable. I ignored it and rose.

"We have a dinner prepared for you, my lord Brother, and my lady sister." The lady Hufflepuff reached out and touched my hand. I was not over-fond of physical contact by strangers and I shifted a little uncomfortably beneath her hands. I noticed with a touch of disappointment how un-ladylike and brown my own flesh was in comparison to her pearly gentleness.

"My name is Helga," she said in that gentle voice.

"Rowena," I said shortly and broke free of her soft fingertips, leading the way into the dining room.

The house elves served their usual meal of hearty soups and bread, juicy meats and sweet fruits preserved in the ice house. Helga Hufflepuff made a great show of praising the wine and the juiciness of the meats but I smiled inwardly at her hard-worked falseness at the mediocre meal. When my father got home, then she would see the power of the army of thirty three house elves that lived below our floors. I took a sip of my wine and stood up to leave the table. Pushing the doors out before me I heard a voice calling my name. My 'sister' arrived behind me.

"Could you show me to my room?" She asked quietly, but her eyes pleaded. I made no secret of my puzzled expression but glanced at my brother and Pincer who stared at us. I nodded to her.

"This way."

I took a torch off the wall and led her through various stone corridors and up and down staircase. I did not slow down as she tried to look at various portraits, tapestries and murals upon the walls. I continued this brutal pace until we arrived outside her door.

"You will sleep here," I said briskly. "You have a good view of the east and west wings and the city below. I noticed her cloak that one of house elves removed in our earlier encounter. I moved to take it from her bed and she moved to her window to gaze over the thousands of rooftops below, pearly in the moonlight. I looked up to tell her it was finished and I saw silver streams of tears about her face. I sighed at the annoying open show of feelings about my brother's wife. It was beginning to annoy me.

I pounded a pillow into fluffiness with one hand. "Homesick?"

"No," she said thickly.

I rolled my eyes at her back. "Alright then, goodnight."

She turned little to one side to give me a watery smile and bid me goodnight and turned to such an angle that I noticed something was strange about her personage. My eyes did a quick double-take and I took in with a shock that there was a bulge in the Lady Hufflepuff's belly, showing only to the keenest of eyes that she was in the motherly state. I felt my face burning as I hurried out of the room.


	2. Guilty of No Sin

Ch 2

Guilty of no sin

The next morning I awoke in a tangle of bedclothes, buried beneath the furs and linens. The morning chill was in the air and I curled into myself against the uncomfortable cold, shutting my eyes from the dawning light. It was a few minutes before the revelations of the previous evening reemerged.

I awoke with a start.

There was to be a child. A bastard child born in less than nine months and the mother was frightened, married and alone. I sat straight up in bed an in one fell swoop threw away my covers, reveling in the shock of the frigid air against my skin. Gingerly, I stepped on the balls of my feet to my clothes chest and pulled out a cream colored gown. Grata, who had been sleeping outside of my door, stumbled in, wiping her eyes and wrapping her cloak around her. By its rumpled appearance I could guess that she had slept in it. She looked groggy and dreary but I was full of energy, going to the window to look out into the gray of the early morning.

"Lace me up," I ordered. Grata shuffled forward to obey and I stretched my arms from my sides and continued to look out the window. It was going to rain today. I loved the rain it filled me with energy and focus.

Grata was halfway through lacing up the back of my dress when there was a pounding on the wall. I jumped, startled by the noise but then I put my hands to my forehead in an irritated manner.

"Grata I think my Mother calling for you. She is unwell again, I assume?" Always unwell.

I turned and Grata would not meet my eyes. She bent down to readjust my linens.

"You do not visit her anymore," She said quietly. I could feel my frustration rising, stepping from her crouched form near my skirts to cross the room.

"I do not visit her because we have nothing to say to each other. And when we do make conversation she will fall asleep halfway through. And on her bad days…" My hand went reflexively over my side, and coming to rest over the spot where there lay a long, silvery scar upon my skin.

My mother had inflicted it when I was six. I do not remember how, only the pain and the guards coming to restrain her. Grata smacked her thin lips with contempt.

"I nursed your mother!" She began reminiscently. "What a beautiful child she was…"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, and you nursed me too, and it will be a wonderful thing if you do not drive _me _to insanity by feeding me more tragic tales of my mother." The banging on the wall was repeated. "You may go, before she hurts herself."

I had no mother, only a ghost of a woman who was tormented by creatures in her mind and was kept alive by the maid of her childhood. She had been ill for as long as I could remember. Grata privately blamed it on me, the final child with the difficult birth and a difficult demeanor. Abraham, my tutor, told me it had been a gradual change. There were rumors in the city that she was possessed by the devil.

Sometimes I wished her recovery. There had been moments, when I was younger, when I had yearned for a mother to love me and pet me like mothers I saw in the village. Sometimes during my visits I would go to her and try to curl up in her lap but she would push me off and fix me with a vacant stare, or scream as if I had burned her.

Sometimes I wished her dead.

Grata shuffled out of the room grumbling and I could hear her gentle cooing as she entered my mother's chambers adjoining mine. I stuck a few pins into my hair, and left, wearing no jewelry and walking into the morning white and virginal.

Exactly the look I was trying to achieve.

Refilled with vigor, I began trotting down the corridors and then broke into a sprint, going faster and faster, dodging sleeping and active servants, and down stairs and through doors and halls until I burst through the great double doors and into the morning. It was misty as I raced down the gravel path, finally coming to a halt near and collapsing on a bench, energy spent. I lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky watching the brooding clouds roll over my head.

I would speak to her today, I decided. Reason with her, see what could be done. I rolled over onto my side. I would know who did this to her, who this woman loved above her own virtue and duty.

It was not only the ambitious Rowena Ravenclaw thinking this, it was also the thirteen year old maiden who knew nothing of love itself.

But my love of Ravensglen, as always, coated the back of my brain. If the babe was a boy, and if my brother was blind enough to accept him as his heir then I would be ruined and the land I loved would belong to the brother I despised.

And if the babe was not born at all…

I bit my lip hard. Something had to be done.

I was interrupted by crunches behind me on the path and I immediately sat up and pretended to be examining something on my gown. I saw a pair of man's boots and upon raising my eyes recognized my brother's companion from the Great Hall. He glared at me through lined black eyes hidden beneath a heavy brow. I realized had no idea what his name was.

"Who are you?" I asked rudely.

"Why are you alone?" It was a strange question.

I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin, regarding him haughtily. "I am a Lady of Ravensglen and if you don't mind I happen to enjoy my privacy."

His eyes showed no emotion. "Have you seen the Lady Hufflepuff today?"

"You mean the Lady Helga Ravenclaw?" I corrected him, watching his blank face carefully. Any change in the status of his heart was veiled by a turn of his head, shadowing his face from the light so I could not see his expression.

"The same," He said briskly. "Has she been up this morning?"

"No."

There was a silence.

"Ah." He seemed to hesitate. "Well tell her that Sir Olrich is looking for her to give her a message form her husband." I cocked my head at him, speaking to him through my sideways view

"Yes, I'll tell her." He turned in a jerking manner and left. I watched his black-clad back retreat through the gardens. He was rather flat footed, I noticed, as his steps he shuffled away his wide legs brushing bushes as he passed.

He was an associate of a very wealthy man and would possibly grow to be much in the world.

A pity he was so ugly.

The world seemed to come into sharper focus for me that morning as I took a turn around the garden. Colors were brighter, sound was clearer and every breath shot through me and came to rest comfortably in the pit of my lungs. Perhaps it was the thrill of suddenly being in control of my own destiny, or it could have been merely the climate of the morning, but my whole body was poised to rush at something, to strike it and swallow it in my wide jaws to make it mine.

-------

I spent about an hour in the garden, picking at petals and leaves and scooping up stones and jiggling them in my palms only to throw them into the trout pond as I passed. Then a wind picked up and drove me inside.

I ran up to my room to snatch my embroidery off its dusty shelf and strolled into the Entrance hall. I could hear raised voices and followed my curious ears into the Chamber of Honors, where Pincer was arguing with a man. I stopped in the threshold to watch.

"I am _regent_!" Pincer was insisting but the man's arms were folded. He was tall. His back was to me but I could hear resolution in his tone.

"I will take my honors from no other but my Lord or an heir to the throne," he said steadily. His accent was not of my country, the words were lighter, spoken more gently. He wore the cloth of a castle guard.

Pincer looked murderous. "He is not here, and you will have to accept my blessing instead of his,"

"No," The man said carefully, "Should I swear allegiance to _you_, I become yours despite the fact that I will be in my Lord's train. If I am to become a protector of this family, I will not be added to your small army. I demand to be honored by a Ravenclaw." Pincer's hunched frame was wrapped in black, shaggy fur. He looked like a large, sickly bear and his mouth with its thin lips was gaping and panting. I bit the inside of my cheek to hide my amusement. I remained in the shadows and leaned against the wall, wondering idly what my excuse would be for being here, watching.

"Gareth I am in the King's stead!" Pincer whined. He turned in a swirl of animal hair and stomped toward the fireplace. I do believe he was making an attempt to 'storm', but simply slammed his feet very loudly on the cobbles. I swallowed a laugh.

"And?"

"And there is no one in the family for you to give your allegiance to."

"Then I shall wait,"

"You will not! My Lord will not allow it! Now _kneel_!" The man simply stood there. I edged toward the door, and Pincer's glance flashed in my direction. His eyes were cloudy and angry. It took him a moment before I could see registration in his eyes. For a moment, is stared back insolently. Before he could tell me to get out, I stepped form the shadows.

"I will do it," I said. Gareth whipped around to look at me. I was not tall, but drew myself up to my full height. He was young, no more than eighteen or nineteen. He had square shoulders with an open, honest face and long, shaggy black curls that went past his shoulders. His eyes were large and a shade of green that I had never seen before. I smiled defiantly.

"I will do the honors in the name of my family." The man hesitated. Pincer glared at me.

"Leave, child, we have no use for you here." He ordered. I didn't even glance at him. Instead, I looked steadily at Gareth who looked mildly surprised at my resolve. I summoned all of my noble bearing and did not break away from those great green eyes. I walked to the mantelpiece and picked up the Ravenclaw sword. It was heavy and I lifted it with both hands, a little unsteady with its weight. I held it in the ceremonial manner with one hand on the hilt and one on the blade. I looked at Pincer and met his gaze dagger for dagger, and both of us slowly turned to Gareth.

"She's but a child. And a _girl_ child!" Pincer declared.

"I be no child, my Lord. I am of marriageable age and since last spring have had the capabilities for producing new life. I am of noble blood, a Ravenclaw by all accounts." The young man looked from me to Gareth, and back to me again.

"She's just a child," Pincer said again.

"_Kneel_," I ordered coldly. My voice took on a new tone, great and powerful like a gong and clear as a bell. Pincer hissed at me with those squinted eyes.

A great silence hung in the air, and gradually Gareth sank to one knee. I gave Pincer a smug glance and lifted the sword above my head.

"Well now what is all this?" A booming drawl announced the arrival of my brother, Robert. I suppressed an annoyed glance behind me.

"Welcome, Brother," I said coldly, still facing Gareth. "I believe this man is due the honor of service to our family. Or were you asleep when the messenger brought you the news?"

Robert coughed loudly into his palm.

"Who is this?"

Pincer did not hide the contempt in his voice. "This is Gareth, my lord, a son of Gryffindor."

I could hear my brother splutter slightly. My jaw tightened in surprise.

My head snapped to look at the man kneeling before me. I could feel my eyebrows raise.

We had all heard tales, of course, of the disgrace of the Gryffindors. How in one battle all their land was divided and given to the great families of Britain. The Slytherin line, the Hufflepuff and yes, my own Ravenclaws took the spoils of that war.

And the family, to avoid being sold into slavery, went into service to the lords of their choosing. According to the reports my father had received, the Lord Godric Gryffindor, had taken his own life on the field, leaving his family scattered and his country abandoned. And so in a rare moment of open emotion I stared at the man before me.

He did not look like a as I would expect destitute member of the Gryffindor family and the heir to a fallen line to look. Giving him a long second appraisal I could see there was something noble in the set of his jaw, and the shape of his shoulders. Those green eyes turned to look up at me and did not smile or flatter.

They burned.

I had never seen eyes quite like that before… cold and in the shadows beneath his eyes and the scattered flicks of scars about his face I could see something abandoned. And something determined. I could feel him peering at me, and I felt as though he could see the treachery in my soul and the ambition behind my eyes.

Surprised and uncomfortable, I turned to my brother, handing him the sword.

"Continue, my brother," I said quietly, and stood to watch. Gareth did not take his eyes off me—he only turned to look at my brother when he cleared his throat again. I felt relieved at the release—only realizing that I had not been a captive at all.

"Gareth, you have been called forth to receive the honor of Castle Guard." Robert brought the sword down slowly and tapped both of Gareth's shoulders with the flat of the blade. "In the name of Ravenclaw, the ancient family of Ravensglen I declare thee one with our hopes and ambitions. Wherever we travel, I declare thee trusted into the Old Faith to follow. Your life will become ours and we are in your hands. You are our caretaker and protector until the day of your death or God forbid, the death of the Ravenclaw line. Do you accept and swear by this?"

"I do," he replied, he bowed his head.

"If these vows are broken you shall suffer torture unto death. Do you understand this?"

"I do,"

Robert set the sword down so it separated the two of us with a thick, curved line of metal. The sharp part of the blade pointed toward him. "Now step over this line and make thine actions better than thy words." He rose and stepped over the sword toward Robert. Gareth then knelt before him again. "And by the ancient vows of the Ravenclaw line I declare thee honored," He announced, and bent down and kissed his forehead in the kiss of peace. "And blessed," Gareth was kissed on both cheeks.

"Rise, Lord Gareth," Robert said proudly, and Gareth rose, overtaking my brother in height and towering above me. I dropped to a curtsy before him and stood back.

He looked at me and smiled in a very small way. He had all his teeth. After a deep bow to my brother, a respectful nod to Pincer and another look at me, Gareth left the room. I watched him go.

Robert glanced after him. "Very well," he said in a bored voice. "Pincer have I any other duties for the morning?"

"No my lord,"

"Very well then I have private business to attend to this morning," He said, and stretched.

I rolled my eyes nastily. "Ah yes my brother, I daresay the kitchen maids await their great lord,"

Robert gave me a rather dull glare and left. Pincer and I were alone in the room.

"A shame you will never become anything but a wife," Pincer said scathingly. I straightened my spine and glaring back at him.

"A pity," I agreed. "And a pity as well that you shall never be a Ravenclaw. A pity indeed that you shall never be Lord," I could see his nostrils flare as he glowered at me, breathing hard through his thin nose.

"Had your brother not arrived at that moment I would have had to take matters into my own hands. Your father shall hear of your disobedience." I felt my face flex in response. My father's moods were changeable. He would most likely be furious.

"Yes, he shall.

"He will not be pleased," Pincer said smugly.

I shrugged. "A pity, but he will soon recover. I can fathom another exile to the East Wing,"

Pincer held my gaze with a long look of loathing.

"I hope to be there when you fall from your gilded tower and into the world,"

I had no reply to that. I simply gave him a cold glance and walked from the room, breaking into a run when I turned the corner.

-------

'Gareth,' I muttered to myself, walking up the staircase to the women's apartments. 'Gareth Gryffindor.' A handsome man he was, a Gryffindor indeed. I doubted I would ever see him again—but no doubt he would do well for himself. A fleeting doubt crossed my mind of what I would do if Ravenclaw fell. Where would I go? Would I become kitchen maid in the Hufflepuff household? Would I be sold into slavery?

I thought of the Slytherins in their swamps with their councils of serpents, and Hufflepuff hiding in their valleys, singing their hymns and governing their peasants. All in hiding, perhaps, to overthrow and take all for themselves… perhaps waiting for the right time to strike…

Lost in thought I wandered up toward the gallery, stopping at a narrow window to check the status of the day. It was raining still. I reached out a hand to catch the drops, watching the soggy city below me.

A tiny sound like the creak of a chair made my ears prick up. I felt my spine straighten in reflex to being watched. The sound came again and I realized it was no chair, but a human being. I raised my eyes to heaven, knowing who was weeping again.

"Lady Hufflepuff?" I asked quietly, not turning around. There was a muffled noise.

"Yes," I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard.

"Are you unwell?"

A choking noise and then. "No," There was a silence. I found her shadow among those against the rushes in the hall. She was not well hidden.

"Then what is the matter?" My eyes were wide and my palms were open. I was the picture of the curious child.

Helga brought her hands from her mouth and blinked back more tears. "If it was to be known it would be the disgrace of this marriage and the downfall of my family…" I looked left and right and went to her in the shadows.

"Then we must find a place where we cannot be overheard,"

I took her by the hand and led her into a quiet alcove, trembling with anticipation, my mind working quickly as to how I could turn this secret to my advantage. She trusted me because she thought I was a child with a child's mind. I dragged her into the alcove because I was a Ravenclaw and she was giving me a power over her that she, in her sweetness and innocence, could not calculate.

A small window provided gray light and Helga wiped at a wet cheek with a wet hand. She turned to look at me and her expression was so open, so vulnerable I could feel my heart twinge. I nearly regretted playing her false. Nearly.

"Rowena I…" She faltered. I nodded encouragingly. "I am with child… and the babe to be is not my husbands."

I dropped her hand.

My eyebrows raised, my jaw dropped. It was almost as though I were hearing it for the first time, hearing it from her mouth. "Oh," was all I said. But she was emboldened by her own honesty.

"The child's father is Lord Olrich—the man I love."

And now I was truly shocked. My eyes flicked from the hall back to her face and I whispered, "Well what is to be done?"

Helga put a hand to her forehead. "He was a top man in Robert's train before I knew Robert. When the betrothal vows were taken—that was when I met him… he is… a wonderful, wonderful man…"

I did not say what I truly thought of the flat-footed bumbler that I thought her lover to be. Indeed, I said nothing at all.

She continued. "It was only once…" Her hand fluttered to her belly. "But it was enough. I love him, before God how I love him… but I cannot have this child."

She looked out into the distance, as though far detached from me. "There must be something that can be done… Rowena…" she looked to me suddenly. "Can you help me?"

But outwardly I peered at her through wide, staring eyes. "I know of a wise-woman hidden among the maids in this palace—we may go to her."

Helga looked up fearfully. "She would have the ability to…" I nodded.

"Yours is a case among many."

"But if she was to know me--"

"We will disguise you. Come to my room at midnight. I will call her there."

Helga hesitated, as I had predicted that she would. Her eyes were wide and she looked a bout to burst into tears again. "Will it be painful?"

I shrugged a little too carelessly. "I would not know—I have never been with child."

I rose to go, tucking my skirts around me and I heard her give a small wimper. I camouflaged an annoyed expression with a sweep my eyelashes.

"Why are you so cold?" The comment stopped me in my tracks. I stared down at this weeping, impregnated woman who questioned me so frankly. I could feel my defenses rising as she peered up at me.

"What has life been to you to make you like this? You know when to play the child that you should be, that is certain. And you could fool anyone with your subtle glances and innocent mind tricks, but you cannot fool me, Rowena Ravenclaw. I know of your kind, growing under the winds of treachery and bitterness." She reached out as if to touch my cheek. I stepped back, suppressing the urge to smack the hand away.

"Then why did you trust me. It would seem you have already been fooled."

She sighed wearily and looked towards the gray light. "How old are you?"

"I will be fourteen when the apple blossoms fall. What of it?" She could not have been older than 16 herself. Eighteen was considered old for marriage as it was…

"You are so young,"

"I am a Ravenclaw,"

"Aye," she agreed. "And you have known far too much of this life far too early. And for that I pity you,"

I took a step towards her and her expression was serene. "Today my brother initiated an heir to the Gryffindor family into the palace guards." Her eyes widened. "We all play the game, Helga, daughter of Hufflepuff. I have simply chosen to take my turn earlier than most."

"But why?" She whispered.

"And Lady Hufflepuff if you truly believe what you say you are ignorant of our ways here. My mother hears demons and I play my role to avoid the wrath of my father and brother, and steer my neck away from the hangman's noose. And in between I have my gains and losses. I have my ambition and dreams, Lady Hufflepuff, and they are not what natural order has set for me. I was not born to be a breeder of sons to a great Lord."

"But what other choice have we, daughters of the great families?"

"I know not. But when the choice comes, I wish to be prepared to make it. And if that means I have no time to be a girl and will grow old before my time, so be it. It is by my own doing."

If she was silenced from my words or by her own choosing, I did not know. But I chose to take my leave.

"I'll come for you when the moon is high. Be ready."


End file.
